


Ghosts

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Series: Bittersweet [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Body Worship, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Late at Night, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scars, Top Greg, unrequited possible past johnlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few nights after John's wedding, Greg gets a text.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts

Greg rolled over and grabbed his phone as it buzzed the second time. _Come over - SH_

Blinking, he saw it was just past 1 AM. sighing, he got up and threw on clothes. _On my way -GL_

The drive to Baker Street was familiar as he drove through the dark London streets. He knew why he was being called; John was still on his honeymoon.

Greg moved quietly up the stairs. They hadn't been lovers since about six months before John had come onto the scene. They'd had their fun and had mutually decided they'd run their course. But still, here was, at going on two in the morning.

Sherlock was slumped in his chair. He stood as Greg came in and quickly crossed the room, taking his coat in both hands and kissing the older man desperately.

"Sherlock." Greg gently pushed him back with a hand on his shoulder.

"Please," said Sherlock, almost trembling. "I need..."

"You need John," he said as kindly as he could.

"But he's married. Not here. On his honeymoon," Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I'm not even going to try and replace him." Greg watched his eyes as he fidgeted nervously.

"You couldn't." Sherlock didn't mean to wound, but Greg's heart still dipped. "Just tonight, please."

Greg knew this was a bad idea. Still, he took off his coat and hung it up, retrieving the condom and lube from his pocket. Sherlock went to his knees, nosing his growing erection through his trousers. The truth was Greg had missed this. He ran a hand through Sherlock's hair, aware this wasn't the boy he'd first met, and undid his flies. "Go on."

Sherlock carefully pulled his cock free, mouthing it a moment before sucking the head into his mouth, teasing with his tongue. Greg moaned and held his hair again, all those memories of that sinful mouth flooding his system. He wanted this, even if it was just one night, wanted this man writhing beneath him.

"Bedroom," growled Greg, tugging him to his feet. He peeled off his own shirt on the way, toeing off his shoes and leaving his trousers and pants on the floor. Sherlock had removed his robe before crawling into bed, but left his shirt and bottoms on.

"Come on, Sher." Greg reached for the hem of his shirt. Sherlock batted at his hands, but surrendered after a moment, shaking as Greg's hands felt his scarred skin while pulling the shirt up. Frowning, Greg turned on the light and moved him to see. "Oh, _Sherlock._ "

His back was gouged with scars, as if he'd been beaten and whipped. Greg gently ran his hands down along them, kissing one on his shoulder. "Does John know?" He asked quietly.

"No," Sherlock’s voice was rough. "And he never will."

Tears threatened Greg's eyes. To sacrifice so much, only to lose what you'd fought so hard for...He carefully lay Sherlock on his stomach, soothing him with his hands before following with his mouth and tongue. "I am not him and never will be, Sher. But if you need me..."

"They were going to kill you too," Sherlock's voice was barely above a whisper. "There were three targets. John, you and Mrs. Hudson."

Greg stopped and regarded the man a long moment. He leaned in close to his ear.  "You are the bravest man I've ever met," he said softly.

Sherlock rolled over, tears in his own eyes. He reached up and pulled Greg down for a kiss. Greg thought his heart might break. "Let me take care of you," he said softly, slipping Sherlock's bottoms off with his pants.

"Please," asked Sherlock quietly, arching against Greg's hand.

Greg took his cock in hand, stroking slowly. He leaned down to lick the sweat from his clavicle before trailing kisses down his breastbone, feeling muscles where there hadn't been before. He'd seen John's suffering here; Sherlock had suffered alone. There was a new scar here too, along one rib, as if he'd been stabbed. Greg ran his tongue along the thin dip of skin. Sherlock moaned underneath him.

"Fuck me, please."

He wanted to be used. Greg remembered that, the way he'd first come onto him. Then, like now, he'd fallen for the hypnotic eyes, the sinful lips. Sherlock could play him as well as his violin. And Greg didn't mind one bit. He popped open the lube, coated his fingers, and reached down to touch his entrance.

"Please," groaned Sherlock again, pulling up his knees and spreading his legs wide for him. Greg kissed the head of his cock and pushed a finger inside, going slowly, watching his lover's face. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, lips parted. After a few long moments, Greg pushed in a second finger and kissed his hip, stretching him wider.

"Look at me," ordered Greg.

Sherlock opened his eyes and slowly focused on him. Greg gave a small smile, knowing he had him in the present now. He withdrew his fingers, rolled on the condom and added more lube. Moving up, he leaned down to kiss him as he pressed inside.

 _So tight,_ he thought as Sherlock wrapped his long legs around his waist. He moved slowly, allowing him time to adjust. They panted together, Sherlock gripping his forearms to ground himself. Greg rested his forehead against Sherlock's as he sank into him.

"God, Sher," he muttered, thrusting shallowly and tilting to kiss his forehead. The man was beautiful like this, and it thrilled him to know he was the one to reduce Sherlock to this. He wrapped a hand around his cock again, making him whimper, fingers digging harder into his arms. Greg brought him higher and higher until he threw his head back and came hard, spilling over Greg's hands and onto his stomach.

Grabbing Sherlock's hips, Greg snapped forward and thrust hard as he sought his own release. A few more thrusts and he was coming with a groan, barely aware Sherlock was watching him. Finally he leaned down to kiss him again, before pulling out and binning the condom. He padded into the bathroom and came out with a warm flannel to clean him up.

Sherlock grabbed his wrist. "Stay?"

Greg looked down, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. "Okay."

He tossed the rag at the bathroom and climbed into bed, turning off the lamp. Sherlock curled up on his chest and clung to him like a drowning man to a raft. 

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to taylorpotato for even getting me on this ship, and Shellysbees for both writing more sherstrade and reading this one over.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
